


Follies and nonsense

by hippocrates460



Category: The Worst Witch (TV 2017)
Genre: And crows, Coming Out, Dancing, F/F, Friendship, Post-Season/Series 03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2019-12-17
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:13:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21834985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hippocrates460/pseuds/hippocrates460
Summary: “To be fond of dancing was a certain step towards falling in love.”Or: Hecate Hardbroom makes a friend
Relationships: Hardbroom & Julie Hubble, Hardbroom/Pentangle (Worst Witch)
Comments: 18
Kudos: 83





	Follies and nonsense

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for the nudge, Acid, you're very right of course.  
> If anyone has a Worst Witch Discord or group chat or whatever, please hit me up? I'm drowning in emotions.

It’s not long after the first time she suddenly appeared in Julie Hubble’s living room that Ms Hardbroom comes into existence in the middle of the kitchen while Julie is trying to watch some television. She spills hot chocolate all over her front, swears, and looks over her shoulder to see if the door to Mildred’s bedroom is still closed. Then she turns to Ms Hardbroom.

“Can I help you?” She manages, really trying for not-too-violent. 

“Apologies,” Ms Hardbroom says, looking more than ever like she has an actual broom stuck up her skirt. “I did not mean to disturb you. I was unsure how to transfer to you and...”

“In the hallway,” Julie says, “or better yet in the closet down the hall, where you won’t scare the living daylights out of my neighbours as well as me. Seriously, don’t you witches knock?”

She looks at Ms Hardbroom very hard to convey how displeased she is about the chocolate now cooling on her shirt, and notices very many things about her at a time, but mostly that she is miserable. Fuck.

“Alright,” she says, unable to help herself, “next time you knock, but since you’re here already, have a seat while I clean up.”

Ms Hardbroom holds up her hand in an offer to do it for her, and Julie thinks  _ hell no _ and goes to her bathroom without another word. She’d rather not be magically cleaned and anyway, this’ll be an opportunity to put on something other than extraordinarily faded Winnie-the-Pooh pyjamas.

She comes back in more decent loungewear, the sort she’d be willing to wear around Martin, and finds Ms Hardbroom entirely unchanged. So she makes them both tea, and sets them up with some biscuits also, and takes the opportunity to take in the very expressive face of her guest. Utter, whole-bodied, all-encompassing misery.

“How can I help you?” She starts, sitting with a cup of tea, after Ms Hardbroom has conveyed her thanks for the cuppa and a hobnob. 

“It’s just – ” Ms Hardbroom says, nibbling politely on her biscuit, clearly displeased at having been read so easily, “I was wondering, or rather hoping – I should say that.” She takes a deep breath and displays outward calmth in a way that is both impressive and a sure sign of someone that has been teaching for half her life. “I’d like to apologize,” she says it to herself more than to Julie, and stubbornly pushes out her chin, “I behaved atrociously towards you and your daughter, because I felt ashamed of a mistake I made. A mistake that, as it turns out, was well within my means to fix. I am sorry, and I would like to make amends, if you’d be willing to accept my apology.” It’s... endearing, Julie thinks. This woman’s got a decade or more on her and magic to boot, and she’s finally treating her like a person.

“Sure,” she says, therefore. “Have you apologized to Mildred and Indigo?”

“I have,” Ms Hardbroom says, white knuckles on her mug, “but I felt I owed you an apology as well.”

“I appreciate that,” Julie says, really meaning it. She’s noticed Indigo doesn’t like talking about things much, and hopes she’s sharing her thoughts with Mildred at least. In the meantime, she’ll give her as much of a normal summer as she can, a trip with the caravan included.

Ms Hardbroom looks miserable, and Julie was just getting to the good bit of her movie, so she slaps her thighs and stands up. “Now how much do you know about Jane Austen?”

It’s a strange sight, Hecate Hardbroom (it’s impossible to think of her as Joy) sitting on her sofa, watching the beginning of Pride & Prejudice while Julie prepares the popcorn and a nice bottle of red, but it turns out that Jane Austen is as well-known to witches as she is to tired girls all over the country, and Ms Hardbroom is a rather avid reader. Although that bit shouldn’t have been a surprise at all.

***

Ms Hardbroom, newly known to Julie as Hecate, becomes a sort of fixture. Sometimes she sends a raven with a request to come over ahead, which embarrasses Julie to no end as she has to  _ get up _ and then  _ go talk to _ the bird. It’s a polite bird, never poops on the balcony, but an odd sight nonetheless. Especially when Hecate recommends she get the bird a snack for the return journey. Mostly, she comes over after Mildred and Indigo have gone to bed (or at least Mildred’s room) and they chat over tea. Hecate requests further movies, and Julie has to start finding movies, which takes trips to the library, that she doesn’t tell the girls about. She’s told them Ms Hardbroom and her have made up and have spent time together in the evening, but isn’t sure how to tell Mildred that she thinks Hecate might have a crush on Keira Knightley and that’s why she’s gone to get Anna Karenina on DVD. It’d feel like telling on her, in more ways than one.

Hecate has a sharp tongue, and a way with words, and an encyclopaedic knowledge of everything under the sun that tells Julie she doesn’t have many other friends, in a way that even her third nightly visit in one week can’t.

So she suggests they go out. 

“And the girls?” Hecate asks, looking at the closed door.

“Oh, they’re not here tonight,” Julie waves it away. At Hecate’s raised eyebrow she explains. “They’re staying with my mum.”

“What about  _ magic _ ?” Hecate exclaims, clearly already spiralling, “Indigo Moon is nowhere near proficient enough at managing her newly got powers and despite the fact that it has been over – ”

“Hecate,” Julie interrupts her, “they’re my kids and I’ll do what I want.”

Hecate narrows her eyes at her, but seems to concede the point. “Mildred has been a witch for longer than you both know, it’s not the same.”

“True, and I also don’t know Indigo as well as I know Mildred,” Julie admits, already leading Hecate to her bedroom. “But gran’s a good person and if something happens she’ll just call me.”

“Indigo isn’t  _ your _ child,” Hecate adds, always wanting to be right. Julie grins up at her, holding one of her nice tops. It’s even black.

“She’s no one else’s is she?” She throws back, “now what do you think of this one?”

In the end Hecate refuses to wear any of Julie’s clothes, going so far as to call them wildly indecent, and Julie is forced to just dress herself up and deal with the fact that she’s bringing the human equivalent of a taxidermized crow to a pub. It ends up, actually, being rather fun.

Hecate walks Julie back home, and when Julie laughs a belly-laugh at a dry comment about Ms Bat’s ability to fall asleep at the most inopportune moments (she’s going to fall into her porridge one day, I’m just praying I’ll be ready to capture the moment), Hecate looks at her in a pained way. Not familiar on this face, but well-understood nonetheless.  _ There you are _ , Julie thinks, and then stubbornly pretends nothing’s changed. 

Of course she’d thought about it before, what with the way her nose scrunches at the mention of boys or men or wizards, and how her only requirement for entertainment seems to be the presence of Keira Knightly. Julie knows what it is to be found beautiful, and decides she wants Hecate to feel that way too.

***

They don’t see each other for a few weeks after that. Julie takes the girls to Cornwall, and Hecate has some type of convention, so when they’re both back and the crow shows up at her balcony, Julie is giddy. She tells the girls they can stay over at Maud’s place if the Spellbody’s agree (and of course they do, they’re lovely people and Maud is over often enough). 

When Hecate shows up and Julie pulls her in for a hug, she realizes she’s missed her friend. It’s so nice to be able to ask someone for help with understanding all the magic stuff Mildred talks about, it’s so good to have a friend who knows all the ways teenagers are awful and now that she’s going to be teaching art at the local secondary, it’s really comforting to have someone talk her through all the things she needs to learn about teaching. 

“Hello,” Hecate says stiffly, and Julie knows from the confusion in her brow that she’s not used to this sort of enthusiasm. “I’ve brought wine.”

“Good,” Julie decides on the spot that they need to go out again, and drags Hecate through to the bedroom. “Now if you won’t let me put you in one of my tops, at least do yourself the favour of spelling your shoes comfortable and that skirt just a little easier to move in, alright?”

Hecate does as she’s told, grumbling good-naturedly all the while, and even helps Julie with her zip. “Those shoes?” She asks, eyeing Julie’s sneakers, and they both laugh as Julie has to reach all the way to the back of the closet for something more appropriate for going out in.

“There,” she twirls, “is that better?” Hecate’s eyes are shining with joy, and she tries to lie with a little shrug, but Julie knows she’s happy. She looks good herself, always so put together and now just a little more comfortable. “Let’s go.”

On a whim, she takes her to a different place. Not a pub, this time. Hecate looks uncomfortable, but trusts Julie enough to follow her past the bouncer and down the stairs into the club, with a dancing area to the back and a long bar that Julie takes them to. They settle on barstools with their drinks and Hecate looks around with round eyes. Feet tapping.

“Go,” Julie urges, “someone’ll want to dance with you.”

It takes another drink and some over-the-music chatting to get her confident enough to actually go, but soon enough Hecate Hardbroom, accomplished witch and deputy headmistress of Cackle’s, is swaying along to the bumping music. She’s alone in the middle of the dancefloor, sipping at her drink through her straw and starts mouthing along the words to the song that’s playing when it gets to a second run of the refrain. It takes seconds before someone notices her, and Hecate is the only one surprised when she gets absorbed into a little group of women dancing. The grin on her face is radiant. 

Julie runs into an old colleague and then some friends, and gets a booth in a quieter corner, catching up and chatting. She’s forgotten to keep an eye on Hecate by the time she shows up at their table with flushed cheeks and a saggy bun. Julie has to stand close to be able to hear her over the music.

“Are you alright?” She asks, and grins back when Hecate nods happily. “Keep dancing then!”

“I was worried I’d abandoned you,” Hecate says, close enough to Julie’s ear that she can hear her.

“No!” Julie says, relying on her face to convey that she’s happy and she ways Hecate to be to. “Let me fix your hair though!”

Hecate turns around obediently, and Julie fishes out the pins, and takes down the heavy bun. “I’ll leave it down,” Hecate says, looking at the ends of her waist-length hair. “It’s ok right?”

“Yeah,” Julie promises. “Now go!”

The next time she checks, Hecate has her arms around someone’s neck. They’re both moving easily to the music, laughing as they fail to talk through the loud music on the dancefloor. But when the woman she’s dancing with leans in, Hecate kisses back.

When Julie starts to think it might be time to go, Hecate slides in next to her. Julie stayed on the edge of the dancefloor most of the night, more interested in catching up than in dancing. “Would you want to stay much longer?” Hecate asks, and Julie shakes no.

“So,” Julie asks, standing outside the club a minute or so late, unable to hide her giddy delight. “Who’s that then?”

“Oh hush,” Hecate blushes, making a face. She looks like she wants to ask something, so Julie prods her. “Is it always like this?” 

Her open and honest face, the sincerity of the question, makes Julie want to lie. “No, it isn’t,” she says instead. “There’s a lot of not so fun places, and not so safe ones too.” Hecate nods like she was expecting that. “This means something though,” Julie points over her shoulder at the big rainbow flag, before linking arms with Hecate and leading her in the direction of home. 

“The flag?” Hecate asks, looking back at it.

Julie decides now is not the time to get into that, and just nods. “So what’s her name?”

“Mary,” Hecate says, grinning again, “and her number is 07367666.” 

“You got her number!” Julie laughs, “look at you!”

“Bit barbaric,” Hecate says, a sideways glance telling Julie that she’s wondering about something she doesn’t quite understand. “To assign numbers to people.”

It takes a minute for Julie to catch on, and then she can’t help but laugh. “Oh,” she tries, and where should she even start, “oh I’m sorry for laughing.”

“Please explain,” Hecate asks, her back straightening, already starting to pull away her arm.

“No, no,” Julie says, “please. It’s like an address, it’s how you can contact her. It’s not _her_ number like her name is her name, it’s the number of her phone.”

“Oh,” Hecate settles. She’s quiet for a while after that, and only speaks back up when they’re standing in Julie’s kitchen. It’s late and she’s cold, but she wants to help Hecate with this part too. “So if I had one of those, I could use it to send a... letter?”

“In a way,” Julie says, already knowing Hecate will never get the hang of casual texting. 

They say their goodbyes fondly, and it’s only when she’s lying in bed that Julie thinks of how Hecate just accepted numbers as important to memorize and had done so without question. It makes her smile.

***

With the start of the new school year it’s a bit harder to keep up. Indigo has, to her great displeasure, been placed a year below Mildred as a compromise between starting from year 1 and being with students her own age. She seems to be making friends in her own year too, however, especially with Clarice, who is happy to explain things in five hundred different ways if that’s what it takes for Indigo to be able to understand. 

Still, Hecate starts taking Saturdays off. She’ll come by in the afternoon for tea, or earlier for a walk around town and lunch, and gets more comfortable with navigating the non-magical world every week. Mary seems to help, until Hecate asks if she can stay for dinner, one Saturday.

“Sure,” Julie tells her, thinking if she should even ask before she remembers that no one else will. “Everything alright with Mary and you? You do dinner Saturdays normally no?”

“Yes,” Hecate says, then immediately her face twitches. “That is, we’ve ended things.”

“Oh no,” Julie squeezes her elbow, “how are you feeling about it?”

Hecate sets her mug down on the coffee table and leans forward, a little too close, a very intense look on her face. Julie is used to her by now, and is still startled to see her eyes so bright and narrow.

“You’ll tell me if I’m too much,” Hecate demands. At Julie’s nodding she sighs, “promise me.” It’s softer, and very hesitant, and they make it through almost a bottle of wine each before she’s done telling her whole dating history. It’s not that there’s been a lot of girlfriends, it’s rather that there haven’t been. From a crush on a friend, to a crush on another friend, to a heart turned to stone until very recently. And then Mary. “She’s lovely, really,” Hecate looks full of regret and determination, “but she deserves someone better than me, and I want someone that loves magic as much as I do.”

“Did you ever tell her?” Julie asks, trying to file away everything Hecate’s poured out over her in the last few hours. It was a lot, but not too much at all. Hecate shakes no, and Julie twists her mouth down, “the code?”

“Not really,” Hecate leans back and stares at the ceiling. “I think it was encouraging to be seen for myself, with no history or family name to uphold.”

That is something Julie can understand. Martin knows nothing of magic, and she might tell him eventually, but it is rather nice to keep these things separate for now. “Would you join Martin and me for lunch tomorrow?” She asks, when they’ve both been quiet for a bit. They’ve met, but never more than briefly, and of course Martin was wonderful about the strange tall goth in her life, as he has been about all strange things. Hecate shakes no. 

“Not because I would rather not,” she says, looking intently at Julie. “And I thank you for the invite, you’re very kind.”

“But?” Julie is already grinning.

“I’ve plans,” Hecate looks away and then back, her mouth more nervous and thin than ever, even as she tries to smile. “With Pippa.”

***

“There’s been rather a lot of plans with Pippa, hasn’t there?” Julie asks when she’s serving out salad and lasagne to both Martin and Hecate, weeks later, and Hecate does the thing where she looks from Martin to Julie and back again. As if she’s not sure it’d be a good idea to have this conversation in front of Martin.

“Yes,” she says finally, and Martin laughs along with Julie at the way this colours her cheeks.

“Bring her over some time, won’t you?” Julie asks, and Hecate looks so pleased at the idea. “We’ll go out, or just for a walk. Even just tea.”

“She’s the head of the other school, isn’t she?” Martin asks Hecate, which earns Julie a glare. “Must be a hard worker to be head teacher at our age.”

“She is,” Hecate, fully tempted into talking about Pippa, agrees. “She inherited the school from her mother, when it was only a preparatory school. Since then she’s expanded to include all ages.”

“Very hard worker then!” Martin cheers, and rest of the conversation flows easily. 

***

It’s not until the next summer that Julie finally gets to meet Pippa Pentangle. “With Martin here?” She asks, “or rather just the three of us?”

“I was hoping,” Hecate says, measuredly as always when they speak through the mirror. “That perhaps we could go dancing?”

“Oh definitely no Martin then.” They both laugh. “Of course, when’d you like to come round? Let me know what you’d like to do for dinner too.”

In the end they eat out, laugh themselves silly, have a few drinks still enjoying the last bits of sunshine, then go to the same bar Julie took Hecate to. To her surprise, Hecate is greeted by the bouncer, and gets a hug from the bartender. With a shy smile, Hecate takes Pippa’s hand, and Pippa takes Julie’s, and then they’re off to the dancefloor. 

  
  



End file.
